That time I slept in a monkey cage..

 So as you know I just got back from India. While I was there I didn’t post much so over the next couple of weeks I’ll post some snippets as catch ups – this one is one of my favourites.

It took us a long time to get to Varanasi, we stopped over at Amsterdam and Delhi on the way. We had anticipated a 6 hour turnaround in Delhi, which turned into 8, then nine. As a result when we eventually got to Varanasi we were pretty tired and because we’d intended the trip to be an adventure we hadn’t booked anywhere to stay. Ange had been to Varanasi before, 5 years ago and remembered that the hostel she’d stayed in had a nice dog. And on that tenuous basis we ambled into Varanasi’s backstreets to try and get a room there for the night.

veiw of the galis from our hostel's roof

 If you’ve never been to Varanasi, some description may be useful here. Most of the photos you’ll see are of the Ghat’s down by the river – and boy is it beautiful there. Heading away from the river are a labyrinth of ‘galis’ which are streets far too narrow for cars. These galis make up the old town where 1,000’s of locals, tourists, monkeys, goats and cows make their home. Space is at a premium in Varanasi so people have added floors apon floors to their homes, to cram in rooms for tourists, shops and bakeries, so when you walk through the galis you may see cracks of sky but you are almost always in shade. And all of those thousands of people and animals are out in the streets, packs of dogs barking and playing, cows blocking off exits and goats mating and wrestling or taking a nap, and then there are the corpses, covered in fabric and tinsel, held aloft and followed by chanting loved ones on their way to the ghats to be burnt. What I’m saying is – it’s a lot. And if you love India – which I really truly do – then what you come to India to find is here in all its glory.

But also – I grew up in Milton Keynes with it’s clear and ordered grid system, and I’m dyspraxic. I have neither the experience nor the skill to navigate my way through this warren. Ange is better, but there aren’t any signs except the odd advert painted on a wall – so it takes a while to find our way to the hostel.

And when we finally arrive they tell us they are full.

And then they reconsider. They say they might have a room – if we are happy to sit down & play with the dog while they make it ready.

So we sat, we played with Lucky, we waited and after 10 minutes we were shown to our room. Which was basically a cage with curtains on the roof. Now I know I’ve been known to exaggerate in my time so I took a photo as proof.

See. That is a cage on a roof. 

It speaks volumes about how tired Ange and I were that we had agreed to rent it and were in bed within 5 minutes of seeing it. Our only query was wether there was any chance monkeys could get in. We were told no – they couldn’t and what’s more they didn’t come onto this part of the roof because the dog chased them away.

So we cleaned our teeth, let ourselves into the cage and fell immediately asleep.

I don’t know how much later I got woken by Ange. I do know she was holding the curtain open with one hand and pointing with the other. “look there is a huge monkey just sat there looking at us”

My reaction? I said something unhelpful along the lines of “Just close the curtain and you won’t be able to see it” and then passed out again (in my defense I really was very tired).

The noise that woke me next was loud, close and confusing. Ange and I sat bolt upright, and looked at each other. “That’s monkeys, lots of them”

“Yep”

“And they are climbing all over the cage”

“Yep”

“But they can’t get in right?”

“Um.... well the guys said so, and someone normally sleeps in here. So I guess not…”

My water bottle falls to the floor – as I look over to see what made it happen I spot a tiny baby monkey, the kind I think is adorable when it’s not trying to get into my bedroom, has already forced it’s arm and shoulder into the room and it’s making a pretty good job of trying to push it’s head in.

“We should get someone”

And we start shouting loudly, for the guys that work in the hostel, for the dog that lives there, for anyone to come help us. Because no matter how cute that monkey looks –we do not want to be trapped in a cage with it. Particularly when it’s mum, dad, aunty and a collection of second cousins are going to want to come in after it.

We hear a clattering outside and the monkeys scatter onto other rooftops. The guys from the hosteI shouted that they’d gone. I ran to the loo (mild peril always activates my bladder). When I came back I asked Ange what they’d said and she gestured to the bed. “they left us that” A catapult and some marbles.

I genuinely thought I was hallucinating “What is it?”

“It’s a catapult Ed”

“That’s what I thought. Why is it here? “

“So we can scare away the Monkeys when they come back”

I chose to ignore the ‘when’ and followed up on the tools we’d been issued instead: “But I don’t know how to use one of those Ange, I’m dyspraxic, I’d probably do myself more harm than I would any Monkeys”

“I know Ed – you would actually blind one of us”

“And what about when we’re asleep?"

“I know – we don’t need a sodding catapault. We need a new room”

Which is how we ended up spending our first night in India in the basement.

Normally this blog is about living with less. I started it to raise awareness about families of disabled children living in poverty. You can find out about my challenge here and donate to make a difference here